In the Beginning Darkness Falls
by LittleDragon
Summary: Taking place before the events of the movie "Bram Stoker's Dracula". In a chance meeting with a young village girl, Vlad finds an insight into the future of the world. Please R+R! Constructive criticism welcomed. Flames are not.
1. Chapter 1

Diary of the Midwife Engrid Merc June 6, 1506  
Today there was a birth just outside of Dracul's village. It was a steamy day, and not the best on which to be born. It is a cursed day. The day of the devil. And a strange birth it was. In the middle of the afternoon she came, born to a woman who was at one time known for her skills as a seamstress throughout the country. Then something happened. The reports are varrying, no one was actually there. Some say that God came to punish her for the evils her husband was commiting in the bed of a young nobel woman, still others claim that it was Satan himself come to collect on a debt long past due. I, myself, believ in neither God nor the devil, but whatever it was from that day on the woman never sewed again. She was blinded and "driven mad" by whatever she saw that day. Given over to what people called strange "visions" of the future or some such other nonsensical thing she spent days and weeks in her cottage, talking to people who did not exist. She was six months pregnant.  
The delivery was long in coming and proved to be one of the hardest I've ever performed in my ten years of midwifing. There was an obscene amount of bloodloss and in the end the mother died. It was probably for the best after all, now she could rest safely, away from the maddness that plagued her. But the child, she lived to take the name uttered by her mother in the last moments of her life.  
This child was different. I could feel it from the first moment I picked her up. A tiny girl, hardly weighing anything, sickly and weak seeming, but strong somehow. Powerful. there was something about her that I couldn't understand and perhaps will never be able to comprehend. As I washed the blood from her tiny body, she opened her eyes and I felt a cunvulsion of fear wrack through my body so as I almost dropped the child. Something in my head told me, "Leave here! Send this child back to the inferno from which it came! Run! Run for your life! For this is true evil." I will never forget those steel grey eyes. Wise beyond their moments of life. I will never forget that feeling, for in those eyes I saw my destruction.  
  
Diary of Vlad Dracul May 4th, 1511  
Dusk approaches, I can feel it coming, fast and strong. So, I will write swiftly, for tonight I have some business to attend to and it is imperative that I arrive on time, but I must tell you of an interesting experience I had this afternoon.  
I was walking in the village, my disguise was that of a wealthy merchant, and while sitting near the fountain in the center of the square I dropped a coin. It was only a copper piece. An honest man would bring it back. A thief would die for taking it. As I sat and watched, a small peasent girl came into view. Treading cautiously into the busy square, she bent to retrieve my coin. She looked around the square and allowed her gaze to fall upon me and, to my surprise, she then approached me.   
She stared up at me with eyes the color of a stormy sky, wide and innocent, dark hair falling, though tangled and dirty, in an endearing fashion into her eyes.   
Putting on a stern face, I asked her, "What do you want, girl?"  
To a child of her age--she couldn't have been more than five or six years old--I must have seemed quite frightening, still she stood her ground, flinching slightly, but holding her gaze steady, staring into my eyes in a very un-childlike fashion and sending chills of premonition up my spine. "Excuse me, Sir. But I think you dropped this."  
I took the coin from her outstretched palm and nodded, then thought better of it and handed it back to her. "Here. I have no use for it. Tell me, what is your name, child? Is your mother not here?"  
Her eyes grew large at the sight of the currency given to her. Looking back up to me, hr small lips parted in a strange sort of smile. "Alhana Lorelei Blain. And I cannot possibly accept this kind gift. Please give it to one of the servant children in your castle, Prince. They need it much more than I." With that she handed me the coin and disappeared back into the crowd, leaving me sitting in the square wondering how it was that she knew who I was. 


	2. Chapter 2

Diary of Maxwell Hawkins: April 16, 1521  
Today I left the last town before I arrive at my destination. Here, I will relate to you my story, as I have not had the time nor the materials to keep a journal thus far in my travels.  
The Story of Maxwell Hawkins  
It was in our summer home, a small house in the countryside on the outskirts of a city in Germany. As the son of a wealthy silk merchant from England and a woman prominent in German society, the neice of a duke, I lived a comfortable life with my parents and an elder sister, Louisa.  
"Oh, Max! You silly duck! I shall have to take you out rowing tomorrow." My sister was laughing because I was afraid of the water and going out on it in a boat.  
Louisa was beautiful. Tall and slender, always moving about in an elegant sort of fashion, nearly floating over the floor. Her laugh was musical. Her laugh was musical, her smile like that of an angel. Blue eyes always twinkled with mischief, rose lips always smiling, and crowned with curls the color of the sun. Five years my elder, Louisa had always been my guard and protector, saving me many times from the wrath of our father. But when it came time for me to protect her, I failed.  
We retired to bed early that evening, tomorrow was the Van Himmers' annual ball and I would be able to attend for the first time this year. The night was balmy and the windows of our rooms had been opened by the servants earier that day to allow circulation. Now the white silk curtains danced lightly in the night breeze, the scent of the wildflower fields drifting in.  
My sleep that night was restless, and I awoke from a strange dream later that night. I could not remember what it was about so much as the awful feeling of eminent danger.   
Slipping from my bed, I tip-toed over the wood panneled floor and peered out of my doorway. Across the hall, in Louisa's room, silvery moonlight flooded in through her open windows, giving everything a sort of ethereal glow. It all seemed perfect, almost heavenly. Maybe too perfect.  
A shadow dancing across the wall caught my eye. Creeping over to the doorframe, I peeked into the light. What I saw there both shocked and repulsed me. Leaning over the bed, a man dressed in full formal attire was holding Louisa in a forbidden embrace. My sister lay there as if a willing participant in the foul activity, but I saw the tears shining on her cheeks.  
I wanted to yell, call out to someone for help to stop this, but no matter how hard I tried I could not force the words out. As I stood there, paralyzed with my fear, he looked up. Blood dripping from his lips, parted in a smile, revealing teeth stained crimson with the feast. For awhile, we stood there, staring at each other, seemingly trapped in the flow of time like rocks in a river, watching the rest of the world rush by us. Then, he lifted his hand and......  
I'm not sure what happened next, but Louisa never returned.  
  
Since, I have been searching for her, and my revenge, far and wide. By now it's been nearly a year since it happened that fateful night. I have hope that she is still alive somewhere, though it has been so long that the probability of it is very low.  
Somewhere in Wallachia I was told of a man who was famed for his acts of cruelty and justice in his rule. Now I travel to look into that lead and hope that perhaps I have finally found her.  
  
Diary of Lara Moldiva April 20, 1521  
I am troubled. My dearest friend, Alhana, came to me today talking of a vision she had of my death. She told me that I must leave immediately or else some "Dracula" deamon will come and be the death of me.  
It is rumored around the village that Alhana, like her mother, can see "unholy visions" of the future, for she is the messenger of Satan. Or somesuch nonsence as that. I know that it cannot be true, but I am afraid that Lana does not. It seems as though, after living amoung it so long, she has come to believe it herself. I cannot bear to see my friend tortured like this, it is not right that she should live amongst such ignorance when she, herself, is a shining jewel, beautiful and bright.   
Her education is incredible for that of a simple village girl. She can read the classics of literature, write with the most elegant hand and beautiful wording, and her speaking voice is well-developed and pleasing to the ear. Why, I often have her read aloud to me just so that I may relax to the sound of her voice. All of this leads me to the simple conclusion that she couldn't have lived all her life here in the village as she has told me many times that she did. But then, where could she have come from?   
April 21, 1521  
Lana came to me again today, this time even more flustered. Here, I will relate to you, as best I can, the events of this visit.  
It was midmorning when she arrived in my home. She swept into the parlor where I sat, enjoying my tea, and begged that I give her a moment, alone, to speak to me.  
"Why, of course, Lana. What is the matter?"  
She shook her head curtly. "I cannot talk to you here," Her glances at the servants made her point quite clear to me.  
With a smile, I nodded and stood. "Let us walk in the gardens then. No one will be there to hear whatever it is that you have to say."  
And so, together we walked from the parlor onto the veranda and into the gardens. The air was fragrant with the the scent of blooming flowers throughout the entire garden. Colors splashed across the hedges, it was quite a beautiful sight, one that I would enjoy emmencely if I hadn't been so worried about my friend. She had a look of sweet concern on her face, one that could not be ignored.  
We wandered through the rows of bushes and ornimental grasses in silence for what seemed like hours. Until, finally, she looked up at me. "You must go. I know that you do not believe the rumors about my "seeing", but please hear me out. It is not safe that you stay here."  
I laughed. "Whatever do you mean, I'm not safe here? Of course I'm safe. My husband has left me with ten guards. Do you think that they are not enough to protect me?"  
"Mere men cannot stand up to the force that will take you if you stay." Her expression was somber, and it caught me short in the middle of a smile.  
I carefully arranged my face to reflect the seriousness of what I had to say. "Lana, you must realize that this is only a manifestation of your own isolation. You need to take a trip. I know, I'll send you to my aunt in London. You'll enjoy it a lot."  
Her hand on my arm was gentle. "No. That is not nessecary. If you will not leave, I can do nothing for you. But know that I will not be able to save you from your own demise. I am sorry that it must turn out this way." Her eyes were downcast as she left me standing there in the gardens, surprised by her reaction. 


	3. Chapter 3

A Letter from Lady Fenering to Vlad Tepes April 23, 1521  
Lord Vlad Tepes,   
Greetings. I have always been a very blunt woman, so I will waste no time in frivolous pleasantries and come straight to the point of my letter as I have always done. I write to you in hopes of forming an arrangement that will be beneficial to the both of us. You see, I am in a bit of a predicament and it came to mind that my former friend and ally, Vlad Tepes, could offer a solution to this problem. I remember when we worked together in the fight against the Turks, and I am sure that if you have retained even a fraction of your shrewd nature and cunning mind for tactics, your help would do a world of difference. But perhaps we can talk more of my situation in a face to face encounter. I will await your reply eagerly.  
-L. Fenring  
  
Diary of Lady Fenering May 5, 1521  
Noon  
My arrival at Castle Dracula was exactly on schedule. The carriage pulled up in front of the ghastly bit of gothic architecture at precisely nine o'clock. The driver, Laszlo, took my luggage away with his horses. I admit that I was more than a little perturbed at this, but he assured me that the Count would provide me with everything I would need and that he would be deeply offended if I were not to accept his gracious hospitality and you would do best not to offend the Count.  
It was then that I met Vlad.  
It looked as though not a day had gone by since our days in the war room. He came sweeping down the stone steps dramatically in his suit and flowing cape, dark hair brushing his shoulders, and those impeccable glowing with....Something. I cannot quite put my finger on it.   
Coming up to me, he caught my hand and brought it to his lips in a gesture of well-trained nobility. Standing up, he glanced over me and smiled. "You look well, m'Lady." His voice flowed over me, almost musically, as he spoke in his native tongue. "More beautiful, even than in the old days."  
And he said it in such a way that I could not help but smile as I replied, "Quite on the contrary, Count, it is you whom time has forgotten in its passing."  
He laughed, his voice echoing through the hall, bouncing off the vaulted ceiling. Offering his arm to me, we began our walk to the rooms where I would be staying. "Yes, we are the unfortunate, forgotten by Father Time in his continuous rounds, but I assure you that, in the end, we will be the only ones who are remembered."  
I have never heard such true words spoken.  
  
Diary of Maxwell Hawkins May 10, 1521  
Upon reaching the edges of the village, I was greeted with the breathtaking beauty of the Carpathian Mountains and the countryside surrounding their base. It was amazing. How could someone as evil as what I've heard this man to be, live surrounded by such heavenly beauty? It seems like a place made only for angels and beings of light to dwell in.   
I almost decided that this was it. That I would stop here and stay, forever. That I would forget what happened to Louisa and go on with my life as the rest of my family had. Almost. It was then that I realized something truly evil made its home here, and it was trying to make me forget my task. Trying to make me forget about everything that had brought me here thus far. But it does not know me. It does not know that I will never forget. I am strong of will. Stronger than he will ever know.   
Now I know that this is where my journey ends. He that lives here is the one that I have been searching for all these hard months. And suddenly a deep sense of calm flows over me. I have won the first battle, though hardly the last, and I can rest knowing that I made it after all. It is strange and often hard to believe, but sometimes evil can be the most beautiful of all. 


End file.
